Mad Man in a White Box
by orebakada
Summary: What if the Doctor is really just a mentally ill human being?


Mad Man in a White Box.

Dr. Williams enters the padded white room. He squints as the arctic glare of the cool fluorescent light scattering off the white room hits his eyes. He lowers the gaze of his eyes as he pulls out a seat from under the table in the center of the room. Sitting down, he places his notebook on the table, flipping through the last few pages, reviewing his notes. The file for patient #23120 also rests on the table.

After reviewing his notes, his gaze rests on the man sitting across the table. His dark brown, wavy, eye-leveled hair disheveled. His arms restrained in a straitjacket, chained to eyelets mounted on the floor. His green eyes reveal a man who is galaxies away.

"How are we today, John? " asks Dr. Williams.

The man across the table continues to stare off into the distance, as if Dr. Williams was speaking to someone else.

"Now, John. I've complied with calling you by your... ahem... 'nickname' in our earlier sessions, but there comes a time when you need to admit to yourself that it's shear fantasy."

"As I've explained countless times before, doctor, John Smith is the alias, not the other way around."

Seeing how there will be no convincing John for this session, Dr. Williams resolves to address him by his alias.

"Ok... Doctor, " Dr Williams pronounces slowly, emphasizing every syllable, as if it's unnatural to call John a doctor. "How are we today?"

"What do you expect me to say? That I'm fine? You keep me locked up in a drab-gray room. If you're asking me if I've hurt myself, then I haven't. But fine? I said I wasn't crazy, but you're going to make me insane. "

"Perhaps I can do something for you. What would you like?"

"I've been having a hankering for some fish fingers and custard. I would be delighted if I can have some for my next meal."

"I will see what I can do, " Dr. Williams replies, noting the odd combination in his notebook.

The sessions have been arduous; this man is so lost in his fantasy that he has composed multiple lives for himself. Dr. Williams has had to transcribe all of his stories, trying to associate cause for the character changes with John's reality, searching for the emotional trigger. William's has already peeled back 10 versions of this Doctor fellow. _This story would make a great television show_, he says to himself, considering the length of the stories.

"So Doctor, let us continue from where we last left off. You were 'regenerating' due to radiation sickness. Then what happened?"

"The TARDIS ..."

_The blue police box slash time machine that he travels in_, Dr. Williams thinks to himself.

"... crash lands on some back lawn in England. I meet this little girl; Amelia was her name, Amelia Pond. You see, I was starving, ravaging, due to the transformation, so I had to eat something and that's when I discovered that I like fish fingers and custard. So you see, I'd be very grateful if I can have some fish fingers and custard for my next meal."

For the next 2 hours, John recounted his tales as the 11th Doctor: Amelia Pond all grown up; the alien, Prisoner Zero, hiding in her home; Rory Williams, Amelia's childhood love; the alien war machines called Daleks and WWII; the crack in time; River Song, oh River, the mysterious professor of archeology that happens to know the Doctor better than himself; the psychic pollen that caused him to dream, to dream of Amy and Rory, changed, different, and older; the hibernating Silurian lizard humans and the disappearance of Rory as he's engulfed by the crack in time; the cybernetic borg-like robots called Cybermen; Vincent van Gogh; Craig Owens, someone he just met while he was away from Amy; the Pandorica, the means to imprison the Doctor forever in fixed time; the copy of Rory as a auton Centurion, created to contain the Doctor; the destruction of the TARDIS and the rewinding of time; the Silence, a race of alien beings that you'd forget the moment you look away; Amy's pregnancy and her daughter, Melody Pond, who's been spirited away; Melody Pond turned out to be part Time Lord due to the TARDIS' time energy; Melody Pond turned out to be River Song; Melody Pond turned out to be the Doctor's assassin, brainwashed my her kidnappers; he cheated death and married River; more travels where the Doctor is alone, not wanting to risk the lives of his dear friends; more travels where he only has himself to console him; time and time again, he puts his friends in danger, like when they entered the Asylum of the Daleks; their journey came to an end as both Rory and Amy's life energy was stolen by the Weeping Angels (quantum creatures who feed off of time potential) in Manhattan.

It seemed obvious that recounting John's loss, regardless of it being fictional, took a toll on him.

"I that that will be all today, Doctor. I will see what I can do about the fish fingers," Dr. Williams tells John as he presses a button under the table, signaling for assistance.

Craig, the orderly, enters the room, removing the straps that held down John. John seems distraught, whether it's sadness from having to recount the loss of his friends, or the slow realization that his tales are nothing but fantasies, Dr. Williams knows not.

He makes sure that the orderlies know that John's next meal should consist of fish fingers and custard. He then retires into his office, annotating and tidying the notes he took during the session. He flips through John's file; all of the information known about John Smith since he was a child was in that file. Large portions of his childhood are missing, since records are scarce before the computer age. Even more is missing from his recent years. John is not a typical resident in Bethlem Royale Hospital, he is suspected as a murderer, and the prosecution needs to know whether he is mentally ill. Because the investigation is still taking place, information about John is strictly need to know (which is why some information is missing). _Well, I need to know_. Dr. Williams picks up the phone and dials for Alesha Phillips, the Junior Crown Prosecutor who is his liaison.

"Alesha Phillips, Junior Crown Prosecutor," answers Ms. Phillips.

"Ms. Phillips, this is Dr. Williams. I've just completed another session with our patient and it would seem that now comes to time for me to request more information about John, specifically the events that surrounds the murder you are working on."

"Now, doctor, we've discussed why we cannot, " began Ms. Phillips.

"... it is of utmost importance for me to get the details of the case. John is seriously engrossed in his fantasies, and without cross-correlation between his stories and the truth; I cannot begin to resolve his escapism. Censor out details you're afraid of leaking out to the public if you must, just give me _something_," Dr. Williams interjected.

"Very well, I'll have someone deliver the copies to you by the end of today."

Having waited well past when he usually left for home, Dr. Williams starts to wonder whether Ms. Phillips simply forgot about delivering the documents. Just as he gets up to call it a day, a knock penetrates his office door, causing him to suddenly drop his briefcase.

"Just a moment, please, " replied Dr. Williams, picking up his briefcase and collecting his composure, feeling silly that the knock startled him. He walks over and unlocks his door.

"Doctor, Bill from the Crown Prosecutors office. I was told to deliver this to you."

"Yes, yes, thank you. I've been waiting quite a while for this. Please thank Ms. Phillips for me."

Dr. Williams leads Billy out of the hospital, as he was also intent on leaving as well. They part ways outside the hospital, and Dr. Williams heads for his car in the parking lot.

After having a brisk dinner that consisted of reheated steak and potatoes, he retired to his study to go over the prosecution data and his notes. What Dr. Williams know about John is that his fantasies started when his wife, Roslyn, became deathly ill with cancer. At first, it might have seemed harmless, storytelling and flights of fancy that he conjured up to entertain Roslyn to keep her mind off the pain. The trigger was probably when she died, complications from chemo. No one heard from John again after the funeral.

_I can only imagine that the other 8 incarnations of the Doctor, before the one who traveled with Rose, occurred after Roslyn's death. The mind works in mysterious ways, filling in details, as it needs to; causality is not a limiting factor to one's fantasies. It's also highly likely that John encounters episodes of clarity; this is probably represented by the loss of his companions. It's also very likely that John is still inside the Doctor, trying to escape, as time and time again, the Doctor realizes that he causes more harm than good. It's also more than a coincidence that his latest 'regeneration' was due to the 10__th__ Doctor having absorbed too much radiation. Perhaps he remembers the suffering his wife went through during chemo? _

_And what of the recent murder? The body of a little ginger girl was found buried inside the wall of the house she lived in, decomposition oozing from a crack in the wall. The aunt, her primary caretaker, was nowhere to be found. John was caught snooping around the premises, spouting nonsense about an Amelia Pond and how he's returned to take her away; thinking him mad, the Crown Prosecutors had him sent to my hospital. _

Dr. Williams resolves to force the truth on John, _if I were to let his fantasies continue any longer, I fear that he would never get better._

That night, the thought of John losing his wife, caused Dr. Williams to reflect on his own loss. He misses his wife dearly. He dreamed of his wife and her demise; she also had episodes of mental instability. She lived in her own dreams, thinking that those dreams were real, and that her husband, Dr. Williams, is her sub consciousness testing her resolve to believe in her truth. In this dream, she was on the roof of the hospital as always, and Dr. Williams is trying to persuade her to step away from the ledge. She jumps, as usual, but, this time, as he runs to the ledge to peer down, he sees the shimmer of a blue rectangular object, becoming less physical as his wife disappears into the shimmer.

He wakes up at the sound of the alarm clock, not knowing how to feel about his dream. He brushes his teeth, makes his usual cup of coffee, which he stores in his thermos, and drives to work.

Upon reaching his office, he immediately requests Craig to wake up John (if he's not already awake), and take him into the observation room.

"How did you enjoy the fish fingers, Doctor?"

"Somehow, it's not the same as I first had it."

"This time, Doctor, we're going to try something different. This time, I'm going to be presenting facts to you. Does the name Emily Pound trigger some recollection?"

"Who?" asked John.

Dr. Williams reaches inside the prosecutor's case file and pulls out a photo of Emily, places it on the table and slides it over to John. "Emily Pound, this girl shown here."

"Why, that's not Emily Pound, that's Amelia Pond!"

"Tell me Doctor, how old should Amelia Pond be right now?"

"Well, aside from the Weeping Angels and being sent back in time ordeal, she should be 23, give or take, time travelling is a messy thing."

"Well, Doctor, that photo is of Emily Pound, age 7, and it was taken only 2 years ago. She's also dead, Doctor; she was found stuffed inside the wall of a house, whose description matches the one you described as being Amelia's home. "

John looked distraught, but it wasn't the face of a person having come to realization of the truth, "Then, it must have been prisoner zero; I must've somehow travelled back in time, but to a parallel dimension where Amelia is killed. "

"Doctor, there is no prisoner zero, just you and Emily. The prosecutors told me, they found your fingerprints all over the tools used to kill her."

"Then it must be someone with my body, after all, this is a parallel dimension. I'm not supposed to be here."

Fearing that there's no way to convince John the truth of Emily, Dr. Williams elects to try and destroy John's fantasy another way.

"Doctor, John, what is my name?"

"It's Dr. Williams."

"What's my first name?"

John stares back, as if he has no clue.

"I never formally introduced myself with my full name, but you can see it here on the name tag on my lab coat. John, you imagined a boyfriend for Amelia, and gave him the name Rory Williams. Not only that, but you also made him a nurse. You talked about a friend you met, named Craig; the orderly who takes care of you is also named Craig. Your ninth incarnation of the Doctor had a companion named Rose. John, your late wife's name is Roslyn. Even you have to admit to yourself that if you were a 3rd party observer, there are too many coincidences to simply call this a coincidence. I'm sure there are even more 'coincidences' if we looked deeper. Perhaps you borrowed details from other people you've met and assimilated them into your worldview? Junior Crown Prosecutor Phillips might even be this Martha Jones person the 10th Doctor briefly travelled with!"

Dr. Williams continues, "John, I suspect that you know the truth, somewhere deep within your mind. These episodes where there's some entity trying to erase the world around you, like the crack in time, or Rory being a plastic Centurion is your mind trying to tell you that it's all fake. The Master choosing to die rather than regenerating, it's you trying to convince yourself that it's all over. Yet, somehow, your alternate personality takes over, not allowing you to die. Think about it, John, you even constructed River Song for the sole purpose of assassinating you. And when you still won't give in to reality, your sane side manages to steal away your fake companions. You're a living hypocrisy; even in your fantasy world, you think the Doctor is above all reprieve. You encounter Oswin on the Dalek Asylum; she convinced herself that she's a human stuck inside her crashed ship; yet, you deem you have the right to expose the truth to her. But when you are told something that goes against your worldview, you refuse to believe it!"

"In a world full of lies, and a world full of disbelievers, there has to be one, whose beliefs are true. Who can say that my beliefs aren't true?" replied John.

"It would seem like we've arrived at an impasse." Dr. Williams presses the button for the orderly. As Craig enters the room, he addresses Craig, "We're done here. Please escort John back to his room."

Dr. Williams adjourns to his office, wanting time to calm down before calling Ms. Phillips and giving his recommendations. Closing his eyes, he accidentally falls asleep. He doesn't wake up until hours later when a large oscillating whirring sound reaches his eardrums. Just as he wakes up, he sees a silhouette of a man outside his office door, and hears the knocking of three rapid beats, over and over again as if the knocker was spelling out 's' in Morse code.

He rushes to the door, already intent on discovering the origin of the whirring noise. Craig was the knocker.

"Doctor, the noise... it's John... it's coming from John's room. The door is jammed from his side some how, " exasperated Craig. The door isn't supposed to be jammed because it opens outwards.

They both rush to John's room. A group of orderlies is already trying to pry the door open. They step aside to let Dr. Williams through.

"John, it's Dr. Williams. Please let us in!"

A high-pitched whining noise, then the door lock mechanism clicks. He tries the doorknob and it's pliant. The oscillating whirring sound can be heard again. Just as he steps into the room, the glare from the sun causes him to squint. He sees a blur of blue, probably from the intense blue sky the window is letting in. As his vision adjusts, Dr. Williams looks around. Craig is already inside flipping the mattress and checking all the nooks and crannies. John is nowhere to be found. The window bars are unlocked and the windowpane opened a smidge. The gusty wind forces it's way through the window opening, playing the window fixture like a whistle.

Dr. Williams stares at the window, wondering if the whirring sound did, in fact, come from the wind. Craig disrupts his view. Looking down, Dr. Williams sees a piece of paper.

"This is the only thing that's different about his room. I found it on his desk, " stated Craig.

Dr. Williams holds onto the paper gingerly. He looks at it; it's a childish drawing of a man, with a suit and bowtie, standing next to a blue box. The artist signed his name: Emily Pond, but the 'e' was lowercase, and upside-down, and the 'i' cursive and missing the dot, and the 'y' an odd scribble. It would seem like one can mistake the words to spell out 'amelia pond'.

Dr. Williams continues to stare at the picture, while sitting in his office. His ringing phone interrupts him. He stares at the caller id; it's his wife.

"Hello?"

"Sweetie, I was just wondering whether you'd be coming home for dinner tonight"

"Yes, I don't think there's more I can work on for the moment."

The police were dispatched to look for John, but they never did manage to find him again.


End file.
